


The last person you'd think of

by OhAine



Series: Simple Chemistry [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Sherlolly - Freeform, Snark, mollock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 05:23:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9804356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhAine/pseuds/OhAine
Summary: “Molly Hooper’s engagement is back on.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilsherlockian1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilsherlockian1975/gifts).



> A smidge early, but Happy Birthday Lily!
> 
> You know the drill folks, I own nothing but the typos.
> 
> Beta'd by the wise and benevolent Kiki, aka MaybeItsJustMyType, who may be the reason why my patronus is a bumble bee ;)
> 
> Inspired by John's remark to Sherlock in TLD, referring to Molly as the last person Sherlock would ever think of. I'm taking my revenge on him...

 

**oOo**

 

“Molly Hooper’s engagement is back on.”

 

“Hmm…?” Sherlock hummed from behind his microscope, his eyes never leaving the specimen he was examining.

 

John nodded his head toward the woman who was tapping away furiously at her laptop on the other side of the lab. “She’s wearing her ring again, must be back on with Tom.”

 

“No,” the detective muttered, without looking up, “different ring, different man to whom she is _affianced_ ,” over enunciating the last.

 

“Could just be a new ring,” John persisted. “You know, new start after their break up.”

 

With a put upon sigh, Sherlock straightened his back and shook his head at his partner in crime. “No John. New ring, new fiancé. Relatively new relationship too, though they’ve known each other for a while. Quite a swift proposal, he wasn’t mucking about.”

 

“How on earth…?”

 

Sherlock gave the doctor a dramatic, haughty look, “The ring John, look at the ring. It’s a Royal Asscher cut, expensive. Custom made too. Far superior to the ill-fitting, cheap high street jeweller’s ring that Meat Dagger offered in exchange for her hand.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“You see the diamond?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Usually prestige cuts are reserved for larger stones. But this ring is about two carats, the size dictated more by the hand that it was meant to embellish than the purchaser’s budget.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“And then there’s the band, a very particular type, the design is trade marked by one of the most exclusive jewellers in London. So, he’s old money. His choices would have been a family heirloom, or a new ring. He chose the new one to send a message to his family that this was a new start, the beginning of a new life for him and Molly.”

 

“Oh come on! You got all that from a ring?!”

 

Sherlock merely raised an eyebrow. _Of course, you imbecile._  

 

“Okay then, smart arse, how do you know it was a sudden proposal from an old acquaintance? Is it the blouse she’s wearing? The height of her stool?”

 

Sherlock grinned like the Grinch who stole Christmas. “ _John_. Sweet, simple John. As ever, you see, but you don’t observe.”

 

John folded his arms petulantly across his chest.

 

“Do you remember? Two weeks ago when we were here on the giant rat case? She was leaving early to go to dinner with that new cardio thoracic surgeon up on the fourth floor.”

 

“The one the nurses were calling McGorgeous?”

 

“Yes,” Sherlock sneered though bared teeth, “ _him_.”

 

“So it’s him? McGorgeous?” John asked.

 

His friend rolled his eyes and waved his hands in an impatient and agitated dismissal, “No. That date ended in disaster when her soon to be fiancé showed up and had her date dragged off by the Met for selling black-market prescriptions.”

 

“He was selling black-market prescriptions?”

 

“Of course not. But her suitor had to get rid of his competition somehow.”

 

“ _Oh. My. God_.” John laughed. “Molly Hopper has a type, doesn’t she?! That sounds just like something you’d do!”

 

Scowling, Sherlock went on, gesticulating sharply to punctuate his words. “So between then and now, Molly’s only had four nights off. If you assume that her new fiancé took the first available opportunity to ask her out after he’d dispatched the troglodyte up on four – _which he did_ – then they’ve only had, what? Three, four dates? A ring like the one she’s wearing takes about two months from commission to completion, so he was obviously in love with her for ages before he’d even asked her out. And she was obviously in love with him too, or she wouldn’t have accepted him so quickly. Ergo, they’ve known each other – and had strong romantic feelings – for a very long time.”

 

John threw his arms out and looked to the heavens, “So, go on then,” he said, “I know you like the bit where you make the big reveal and give us all the answers. Who’s the lucky sod?”

 

Sherlock smirked and glanced at Molly, who by now had finished abusing her keyboard and was getting ready to leave. He stood, swirling his coat around himself, before wrapping his scarf around his neck. As Molly passed on her way to the door, she held her hand out to him, and Sherlock took it. Raising it to his lips, he kissed the knuckle of the finger adorned with the sparkling diamond ring.

 

“Ready to go, my love?” Molly asked.

 

Sherlock wrapped his arm around his fiancée’s shoulder, calling back as they walked away from an astonished John, “The lucky sod, John, is the last person you’d think of!”

 

 


End file.
